


Untitled Drabbles

by je_suis_le_petit_lapin



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Daddy Kink, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Macro/Micro, Post Orgasm Torment, Rimming, Sadness, Vibrator Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-05 13:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4181136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/je_suis_le_petit_lapin/pseuds/je_suis_le_petit_lapin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are all the things that I post on my tumblr (je-suis-le-petit-lapin). Ratings will vary, fetishes will be explored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a.k.a. Micro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the one i wrote to get a sticker

Scout shot his second load of the hour across the top of the wand and his belly with a yelp, body shaking from the strength of his orgasm.

After he had dribbled out the last of his cum, he was still shaking, because he was draped across the head of the vibrator, with Sniper’s hand pressing down on the small of his back.

“Daddy!” he squeaked out, cock coming down off the high and starting to get sore again. “Please!”

“Please what, little mate?” Sniper laughed, pushing down on the small of Scout’s back to grind him further into the vibrator.

“Please stop it, daddy!” Scout was in hysterics, desperately trying to wiggle himself out from Sniper’s grip. It was a short fall onto the bed, and he would’ve preferred whatever punishment Sniper would cook up to another second of being tortured.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Sniper wrapped his hand around Scout’s middle and flipped him over, cradling him in the hollow of his palm. Scout curled up almost immediately to try to shield himself, but Sniper had already raised the wand and was starting to push it into his middle.

Scout keened when the wand made contact with his swollen cockhead yet again, causing Sniper to chuckle and grind it into him further.

“Remember how you begged me to let you cum, little mate?” Sniper teased, moving the wand in circles and watching as Scout’s whole body moved with it. “You’re gonna cum, roo. Again and again and again…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a kangaroo sticker


	2. a.k.a. Daddy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the father's day one i wrote

“Daddy?” Scout shuffled into the room that his daddies shared, head low and hands fidgeting behind his back. Sniper merely picked up his “#1 Sniper” mug, sighed, and took an exaggerated sip.

Clearly, this just meant that Scout had to try harder. He shuffled around to block Sniper’s field of view and whined again.

“Daddy!” Now that Sniper couldn’t ignore Scout, he rolled his eyes and set his mug down with a clatter. “What is it, Scout?”

“Yes, Scout, you’d think after yesterday you’d be trying not to bother us any more.” His Papa called out, leaning even further back in his easy chair. Scout had been a real terror yesterday, yelling at his daddies and running away from them in the mall. It had taken them three hours to hunt him down and he pouted all the way home, even rushing to his room practically the second the car stopped in the driveway.

When Scout didn’t reply for several seconds, Spy sighed and leaned up, pushing himself onto his feet and stepping around to stand by Sniper. “If you’re just here to waste our time, you can go.”

That made Scout straighten his back and look his Papa in the eye, mouth searching for the right words. “No! No, I just-” he took a second to collect his thoughts and relax his shoulders. “I’m sorry I acted like such a brat yesterday, but I have a good reason!”

At the sound of a possible explanation, Sniper perked up, and finally turned his head to face Scout. “Well then?”

Scout slowly brought his hands around to his front, revealing two small wrapped boxes. “I had to get these without you knowing.”

“Well.”

“Oh.”

Spy and Sniper exchanged sheepish smiles, but at least Spy had the decency to say “thank you” before grabbing his gift out of Scout’s outstretched hand. Sniper tore into his wrapping paper while Spy popped the tape off the bottom, pulling apart the folds of the patterned paper.

“Oh, mate, that’s excellent.”

Sniper was already chuckling over his gift, holding it up to show Spy. A white mug, very similar to the one resting on the table, except with “#1 Daddy” printed around it. Seeing Sniper so happy with his present made Spy rip his open faster, and he was rewarded with a silver cigarette case. Turning it over, he noticed the “World’s Best Papa” engraved across the front.

Scout rocked on his heels, waiting patiently for his daddies to take in their presents. Sniper was still getting a kick out of his, and he could almost see a slight tear come to Spy’s eye, but then they looked up at him and he smiled. “So do you forgive me?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, roo.” Sniper chuckled, as Scout climbed up over his lap. “But thank you for the Father’s Day gift.” Spy reached over and ruffled Scout’s hair, murmuring his appreciation for the case.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the best,” Scout hoisted down the side of his waistband to reveal a flash of pink. “Now, about your Father’s Day plans…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> go tell your dad you love 'em if you got a good relationship with 'em; if not, don't feel bad about that


	3. a.k.a. Cleanliness

“Scout, I cannot believe you would do something like that!”

“What is the big deal, Dad!” Scout crossed his arms and leaned onto the wall, half embarrassed to be having this conversation at all and half surprised that Spy had such a violent reaction.

Spy scoffed.

“The big deal! The big deal is that you put your tongue inside of Sniper’s…” He paused, and then shuddered in lieu of finishing his sentence.

“So? He took a shower first, he was clean!”

Stepping closer, Spy started shaking his hands in Scout’s personal space. “That man cannot wash his own face, I don’t trust him to wash himself out well enough for you to put your tongue up there!”

“That’s why I helped him out,” Scout smirked.

“You had better mean with a washcloth.”

“Dad, calm the fuck down. We took a shower, I washed him out with some water, and, y'know.” Scout gestured in a circle, which all things considered was probably the most polite way he could’ve signaled what bedroom act he and Sniper had gotten up to. “It happened. Why are you freaking out so much?”

Spy was still wringing his hands like he hadn’t even heard Scout. “My baby boy, my precious baby boy, being corrupted into that, just the very thought…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://zaksaidso.tumblr.com/post/112546545298/if-i-wanna-eat-booty-why-cant-i-eat-booty
> 
> this video is my life and tf2 is my life so why not combine the two


	4. a.k.a. Disagreement

“Spy, I'm...” Sniper stepped through the doorway into his van, holding a cliché bouquet of red and yellow tulips. Spy's favorite flower did little to dissuade him from giving Sniper the silent treatment. He sat with a practiced stillness, head turned away from Sniper, arms folded across his lap.

Sniper tiptoed over to where Spy was sitting, not wanting to to be the spark that set his fuse off. “C'mon, love, don't be like that.” His free hand started to rub at Spy's shoulder, but Spy barely stirred at the contact. “I do hate fighting with you, I hope you know that.”

Spy still wouldn't respond to Sniper's pleas for reconciliation. Determined all the same, Sniper grabbed Spy's hand and wrapped it around the bottom of the bouquet. The second Sniper let go, the flowers fell to the floor.

The sight of his “I'm sorry” gift dumped on the floor like it was nothing pushed Sniper over the edge. He was tired of being ignored, tired of the cold shoulder; he was Spy's boyfriend for god's sake and he didn't think Spy had said a word to him in the past couple of days. Except for on the battlefield, where he spoke with the same calm disconnect with which he spoke to all his colleagues.

“Goddammit, Spy, at least look at me! Talk to me, tell me to go fuck myself, just stop with the ignoring me! I know I messed up, but look at me! I'm sorry, Spy, I really-”

Sniper's tearful monologue was interrupted by the creak of the van door, and then Spy walked in, eyebrows raised.

“Sniper? I heard you calling me, what do you--” Sniper wrapped his arms around the Spy sitting down reflexively as Spy's eyes widened, mind racing to process what he was seeing.

Sure looked a lot like him sitting on that chair. That was definitely one of his suits, it wasn't the enemy spy. The skin was... lifelike. Certainly not real, but real enough that a passing glance might...

Spy blanched.

It was one of his Dead Ringer corpses. Sniper had one of his fake corpses, dragged from battle and propped up in a chair in his van, and was arguing with it like a lover. Spy didn't know whether he wanted to pass out or run.

At least Sniper had the decency to put his lover's quarrel on hold while he dealt with the intruder. He turned his head towards Spy, eyes low and voice curt. “I'm sorry you have to see this, I don't usually fight with my boyfriend in front of people.”

The sound tunneled out of Spy's ears right around the word “boyfriend”, and he just stumbled towards the door of the van, tripping down the steps and running back towards base. Sniper turned back to his “boyfriend”, taking his hand and squeezing.

“So are you ready to talk it out?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i almost titled this All Your Spying Things but that wouldn't be in line with the one word a.k.a. titles now would it


	5. a.k.a. Dancer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dance moms is taking over my tf2 time/life so i gotta rectify that

Scout dropped to his knee in the middle of the floor, pressing into his elbows and extending his other leg behind him. For a few seconds, the only movement in the room was Scout’s chest as he heaved some deep breaths. Then Michel ashed his cigarette out the window and brought it to his lips.

“Run it again.”

“What?” Scout snapped his head towards his dance instructor, voice breathy from having run his number four times in succession. “I did it perfect that time!”

Michel snorted. “Your fouettés were sloppy.”

With a practiced grace, Scout swung his leg down and stepped up to his feet. He strolled over to Michel, who smiled as Scout’s lip twisted into a sneer.

“Make that face all you want, you know that you can do them better.”

“Well, forgive me for being a little tired; I’ve only done the dance a thousand times in a row!”

Michel leaned back against the wall, douting his cigarette against the windowsill. “You’re asking me for a break, yes?”

The light lilt in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by Scout, who quickly stepped closer to Michel, knee coming up between his thighs. “I can think of a few ways to give my legs a rest, _daddy_.”

Michel’s arms wrapped around Scout’s waist automatically at the term of endearment, and he dipped his head down to dot kisses along Scout’s neck. Sticking his tongue out, he wiggled a line up to Scout’s earlobe, squeezing Scout in tighter to his torso when he felt his knees buckle.

“Let’s see you keep your supporting leg straight on your turns, then we’ll talk break.” Michel smirked as Scout pounded a fist against his chest with a whine and a “come on!”


	6. a.k.a. Lapin is running out of titles for things

“Daddy!”

If Spy had been one bit more asleep, he probably wouldn't have caught Scout's gasp, light as it was through the paper-thin walls.

Scout hadn't call him “daddy” since he was eight.

“Oh, daddy!” Slighty louder, although it still wouldn't have been enough to wake anybody from a deep sleep. More noticeable to Spy, though, was how out-of-breath, how ragged Scout sounded, even through his little gasps. Then, a full-on whine.

Was Scout having a nightmare? Spy's heart panged at the thought of Scout running from whatever dream monster was after him, chasing for his daddy, reaching out and crying...

“Please, daddy!”

That one was a whine, bordering on a scream. Whatever reservations Spy had about going to comfort Scout went out the window as he threw his his blanket off of himself and rushed for his door. Even at 23 years old, Scout was still his little boy, and judging by how Scout sounded, there was still a little bit of that feeling left in him too.

“Daddy, ye-” Scout's breath was interrupted by Spy's hand at his door, too caught up in protecting his baby to knock.

Scout stared at him, eyes wide as dinner plates.

Spy stared back at his definitely not-asleep son, who looked rather like he'd like Spy to leave.

Sniper grabbed the sheet and tried pulling it down over his head, mumbling “why'd you stop, baby?”, but Scout caught the hem first and squeezed it tight, protecting his body from being exposed and his father from seeing it, and Sniper.

“You should... probably go.” Scout tried to ameliorate the situation the only way he could think of, by getting Spy the fuck out of there and never speaking of this again. Spy nodded in agreement, content to go back to his room and try to forget what he learned about his son's proclivities.

With his dad safely out of the room, he let Sniper pull the sheet down and look up at his stunned face.  


“So... we're not continuing, then?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> raise your hand if you didn't guess that "twist"


	7. a.k.a. Recessional

Sniper was laying on his bed, holding his hat over his eyes and smoking.

Spy yawned, stretching his arms over his head dramatically (a move very unbefitting of his usual demeanor) and stared at Sniper expectantly. Sniper didn’t even need to look at him to know his expression. Rather than take the bait, he turned his head to the cracked window and blew, smoke and air whistling through pursed lips.

“What is it?”

“I know you hate it when your suit ends up smelling like smoke-”

“Not that.” The forcefulness behind Spy’s voice belied the tears welling up, and as his arms came down he tried subtly to brush them away. “You’ve been distant.”

Sniper shrugged. “‘m always distant.”

“Not with me!” Spy couldn’t stop the dam from breaking. “Not here! You couldn’t even look at me while I was blowing you! You had to squeeze your eyes shut!”

And he had, imagined that the mouth on his cock belonged to someone other than his sometimes-fuck-buddy who was getting way too close, apparently. Sniper grunted the rest of his smoke out the window.

His lack of acknowledgement stung like a rejection to Spy, who couldn’t stop the tears from coming again. “Do you even want me here?”

Sniper always lay still after sex, let Spy think that he’d fallen asleep until he would see himself out, gather up his clothes and hold the door of his van as it closed so it wouldn’t wake him. He’d become an expert at holding his breath calm, stirring just barely. Now, he figured, it was as good a time as any.

When he realized the answer he was expecting wasn’t going to come, Spy rolled off and snapped his things off the floor. “I know you’re not asleep.”

No answer.

“Fine.” Spy was already out the door, letting it slam shut.

And Sniper was laying on his bed, holding his hat over his eyes and smoking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i scrawled this out in half an hour because this idea has been bugging me for Literal Months


	8. kidz 'n' stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sniper didn't think that it would end this way. or that it would end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this based off a song because i'm a LOSER

He should’ve seen this coming.

What would Scout want with him, anyway? Scout was young, and cute, and exciting, and Sniper was… well, none of those things. He should’ve known that Scout wouldn’t actually _want_ him, would shove him in the “hookup when I’m horny” or “better than nothing” categories. “One gay experience so I can say I did it,” even. Certainly not “boyfriend material”, why would he be?

But on the few nights Scout hadn’t rushed out of the van, when he’d stayed for more than a minute post-sex, Sniper would wrap his arm around Scout’s naked waist and dream, dream of a house in the suburbs like all the rich kids from his school had, one he wouldn’t be ashamed to bring people to. Maybe even a dog.

A dog and a husband and a nice place for just the two of them and now that was all gone.

It was his fault, probably. Scout could tell, tell he was thinking about coming home after a _normal_ day at work to his _loving_ partner, could tell he wanted Scout as something more than semi-regular sex, Scout stumbling in with his cock already hard and still throwing on his shirt when he left. Why couldn’t he have just let it alone, take Scout’s dick in him for what it was and nothing more?

He knew what Scout would be going for, too. He pictured it exactly the same as before, except it wasn’t him laughing with Scout over dinner, it wasn’t him falling asleep with him on the couch to bad movies, it was some young girl who was everything he wasn’t. Some pretty, feminine woman who would steal everything Sniper wanted and not even know it.

Scout deserved more than him, anyway, more than some gross old man, twenty-some-odd years his senior. He would have that nice house, beautiful wife, 2.3 kids; hell, he even deserved the dog, and Sniper wouldn’t have any of it. Wouldn’t have anything but his tears and his loneliness and his foolish dreams.

That’s all he deserved, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't find a good link to the song but it's "kidz 'n' stuff" by shura


End file.
